His expression darkened. "Oh."

"Randy, what happened? What's wrong?"

He sat up slowly and stared at his hands in his lap. Marsha put her arm around him. Donny sat down next to her on the other side of the couch and took her free hand in his. When Randy looked up at her again, fresh tears brimmed in his eyes. He spoke slowly at first, halting between words. His voice was monotone. Emotionless. But then the words began to spill out of him. He shuddered and his throat worked as if what he had to say was choking him. He told them everything that had happened-the power going out, the crow on the patio that had turned into a man, the murder of his parents, the strange effect the spilled salt had on the killer, his escape with Stephanie and Sam, what they'd seen driving through town, the strange graffiti on the hanging tree, Sam and Stephanie's death, the invisible barrier and the dead birds. When he was finished, he broke down into uncontrollable sobs, leaned forward and buried his face in his sister's lap. She wrapped her arms around him, lay her cheek against his back and shared his grief. Donny rubbed her back and tried to comfort them both.

"That poor boy," Myrtle whispered. "Those poor children. Randy and Marsha are good kids, and their parents were fine people. This is such a shame."

"It's terrible." Esther nodded in agreement. "What do you think really happened, Levi?"

He glanced up at them, appearing distracted. "I'm sorry?"

"Out there. What do you think really happened with Randy tonight?"

"I think it happened exactly like he told us."

Esther flinched. "But some of the things he said, birds changing into humans and invisible force fields..."

"You haven't been outside. We have. I believe the boy is telling the truth. In fact, I know he is. We've seen some of the same things he saw."

Myrtle grew pale. "Is it the apocalypse? Are these demons?"

"I don't know what they are yet. That's what I need to figure out."

They fell silent again and listened to Marsha and Randy weep.

Levi folded his fingers into a steeple, closed his eyes and concentrated. Randy's sudden appearance outside had badly distracted him. The youth clearly had the gift, but seemed almost completely oblivious to it. In some ways, Levi envied him for that. He thought back to when he was Randy's age-that fateful summer when everything had changed and he'd learned just what high a price magic had-and wished that he'd been oblivious, as well. Maybe if he hadn't known, things would be different. Maybe the girl he had loved would still be alive. Maybe he'd still have a home, a real home, with people who welcomed him and a family that he could always turn to, no matter how bad things got.

He needed to focus. Growing maudlin over the past wouldn't help their present situation. What did he know so far? Brinkley Springs had been attacked by supernatural entities with the ability to change shape. They had appeared as both a crow and human. In their human guise, they appeared clad in antiquated, Puritan-style clothing. Their speech was a curious mix: outdated colloquialisms mixed with more modern terms and slang. They had inhuman strength, speed and abilities. They were systematically slaughtering every living thing. They devoured their victims' souls, leaving an empty husk behind, as a locust in summer leaves its desiccated shell clinging to a tree. Their victims' bodies turned to dust shortly after death, leaving no trace save for a small pile of ash.

Levi shuddered at the thought of such a fate. To have one's soul eaten, to lose all sense of self or being, to not travel to the levels and planes of existence beyond this one, to become the sum total of null with no chance of ever being reborn or reconstituted-that was the worst fate he could imagine. Better to end up in hell than to be completely eradicated.

What else did he know? The entities seemed impervious to various workings and magical disciplines. His binding spell had been only partially effective, serving to slow his antagonist down rather than actually binding it to his will. They'd sealed off Brinkley Springs from the outside world by means of a mystical barrier, which would have taken an enormous force of will and an incredible amount of energy to construct. It was possible that the barrier was some sort of soul cage, though Levi had never heard of one so massive in size. It was a stunning achievement. And then, finally, there was the word Randy had seen carved into the trunk of a tree-Croatoan. It was obvious from their reactions that Randy, Marsha, Donny, Esther and Myrtle hadn't recognized the word or its significance, but Levi did. He just didn't know how it fit into all of this.

Yet.

Croatoan. The word had several different meanings, and not all of them were related to occult lore. At best, it was a location and nothing more, but Levi was fairly certain its association with tonight's events was something more sinister.

He opened his eyes, unfolded his fingers and cleared his throat. The others all turned to him.

"The highway leading into town...How many cars and trucks use it at night?"

"Not many," Donny said. "Traffic is usually pretty light at night. Maybe one or two cars and a few tractor trailers all night long. That's it."

"But a few will pass through?"

"Yeah, probably. Why?"

"I'm thinking about this barrier that Randy told us about," Levi said. "We can't leave-can't contact the outside world. But if an oncoming car hits it, and the driver is uninjured or able to call for help, others might become aware of our situation."

Myrtle sat up straight. "Can we hold out until then?"

Levi shook his head. "I don't think so."

"Does that mean you have a better idea of what's going on?"

"Perhaps," Levi answered. "At the very least, I'm starting to connect the dots. How many of you have heard of Roanoke?"

"I've been there many times," Esther said. "They have some lovely antique shops."

Marsha nodded. "It's not that far from here. Just over the border in Virginia."

"I don't mean the city of Roanoke. I'm talking about the original version-Roanoke Island. Are any of you familiar with it?"

Donny, Marsha and Randy shook their heads. Esther frowned.

"Oh." Myrtle snapped her fingers. "That's where all those people disappeared, back during the colonial days, right?"

"Correct. At least, partially. This Roanoke, unlike the Roanoke you were all referring to, is an island off the coast of North Carolina."

"I know that place," Donny said. "It sits right off of Highway 64. We passed through there on our way to the Outer Banks."

"And if you blinked," Levi replied, "then you probably missed it. In many ways, Roanoke is much like Brinkley Springs. It's small-about eighteen square miles-and it's fairly remote, even with the highway access. I'd guess less than seven thousand people live there, and many of them are probably seasonal."

"I don't know," Donny said. "I seem to remember there were a lot of tourists there when we went through. Of course, it was summer and all."

"Oh, no doubt there were tourists. Roanoke is a historical site, after all. As Myrtle said, it was a place of some importance in this country's past. But...I also think it might have some significance concerning tonight's events."

Marsha leaned forward. "What do you mean?"

"Bear with me. It's a long story, but I'll do my best to be brief. Near the end of the sixteenth century, the English tried several times to establish a permanent settlement on Roanoke Island. Had their attempts been successful, Roanoke would have been the first English colony in the New World. Keep in mind that this was before the American Revolution, of course, and the English had claimed the area as their own. In fact, at the time, there was no North Carolina as we know it today. Roanoke Island was simply a part of Virginia. They named it after Queen Elizabeth I, who was also called the 'Virgin Queen.'"

"And was she?" Donny asked.

"Who knows?" Levi shrugged, and then continued. "Sir Richard Grenville was the first person to attempt to create a permanent settlement on the island. In 1585, at the behest of Sir Walter Raleigh, Grenville transported a group of English colonists to Roanoke Island. He left them under the guidance of a man named Ralph Lane, and then he sailed back to England for more supplies. At first, things went well, but Grenville's return was ultimately delayed, and the settlers reportedly found themselves running out of supplies. Soon, they were in pretty dire straits. They eventually had to abandon the colony altogether and return back to England with Sir Francis Drake, who had anchored at Roanoke after attacking the Spanish colony of Saint Augustine."

"So the settlement failed," Marsha said.

"Indeed. But a second attempt to colonize the island was made in 1587, and many of the original settlers returned with that second group of their countrymen, determined to make a go of it. Men. Women. Children. Families. Sadly, they fared no better. They brought livestock with them, but many of the animals died in transit. They brought seeds and tools but had trouble raising enough crops to sustain themselves. The seeds withered. The tools broke. Once again, they began to run low on supplies, so a man named John White sailed for England to retrieve more. He left behind his daughter Eleanor and her daughter, Virginia, who was the first English child to be born in the New World. She was named after the queen, I would imagine. It couldn't have been easy for White to leave his friends and family behind, let alone his granddaughter, but apparently, he only expected to be gone three months. He told his fellow colonists that if the situation grew dire, and they had to abandon the settlement for any reason while he was gone, that they should carve the name of their new destination, and mark it with a Maltese cross under the carving so that he'd be sure to notice it. That way, he'd know where to find them upon his return. And with that final instruction, he left."

Donny tilted his head from side to side, cracking his neck and shoulders. "No offense, Levi, but I don't see how this helps us."

"You will in a moment. Patience. White made it back to England safe and sound, but when he got there, he found his country embroiled in a war with Spain. Despite his protestations, White's ship was confiscated by the authorities for use in the war effort. White was full of despair, and he argued for the ship's return, but to no avail. The settlers were on their own. He didn't make it back to the colony until 1590-three years after his departure."

"Three years instead of three months," Esther said. "Those poor people. They must have thanked God when he finally arrived."

Levi shook his head. "On the contrary, as Myrtle said earlier, the settlement was empty. There was no one left to thank God. When White stepped off the boat, he found that all of the colonists had simply vanished. Their valuables and money and clothing still remained. Indeed, in many homes, rotting food sat on cobweb-covered plates, as if the inhabitants had left halfway through their meal. But there was not a single living soul to be found. None of the inhabitants remained behind. There were no bodies and no signs of foul play. It was as if they'd disappeared into thin air."

Esther made a noise in her throat.

"Desperate to find them," Levi continued, "White and his men searched the colony for clues to their whereabouts. Remember what White had told them before leaving-that if they had to abandon the settlement, they were to carve the name of their new destination somewhere and mark it with a Maltese cross? Well, White didn't find any signs of a Maltese cross, but he did find two carvings. The first was the letters C-R-O, which had been etched into a tree. The second word was carved in a fencepost. That word was Croatoan-the same word Randy saw carved into a tree tonight."

"Cro," Marsha said. "Crow?"

"Perhaps," Levi said, "or maybe we're seeing connections where there are none. But it is curious, don't you think?"

"But what's Croatoan?" Randy asked, sitting up. "What does it mean?"

"It is a name for many different things. White knew it as the name of an island to the south of Roanoke. Today, that island is called Hatteras, but back then, it's name was Croatoan, and it was inhabited by a friendly tribe of Native Americans. Based on this, White logically assumed that his people had decided to take shelter with the natives until his return, though his assumption didn't account for the half-eaten meals and other signs that the colonists had left in a hurry. Convinced they were at Croatoan, White intended to go after them, but he was delayed yet again. Several hurricanes prevented him from reaching the island, and he had to return to England instead. He never made it back to the New World, and the settlement remained abandoned. It's said that he went mad with grief and guilt."

"So the lost colonists settled Croatoan...Hatteras?" Myrtle asked.

"No. White, and all of the historians, archeologists and scientists who have come along since then and assumed the same thing, were wrong. The truth is not widely known, other than to certain individuals like myself, but it's a truth nonetheless."

Esther frowned. "Individuals like yourself?"

"Magicians. Powwow doctors. Priests. Warlocks. Witches. Call us what you will. They are different names for the same thing. Our disciplines and methods may differ, but in the end, we're all on the same path."

"So, you're not Amish?" Esther's expression was one of disappointment.

"No, I'm not Amish. I was at one time, but not anymore."

"I see." Her frown deepened. "Myrtle and I discussed it, when you were upstairs in your room. I just assumed, judging by how you dress and the buggy outside, that you were either Amish or Mennonite. I would certainly never have pegged you for a..."

"A what? A pagan?"

"That's a nice way of saying it." Esther looked away. "Sounds like Devil worship to me."

"I'm not a Satanist, Esther. I was once a part of the Amish faith, but I was forced to leave the community many years ago. What you need to understand is that the decision wasn't mine. I still hold on to my moral upbringing. I'm not Amish or Mennonite, or Protestant or Catholic. But really, those are just labels. If you need me to explain my beliefs, I'm just trying to live my life right and do God's work, the way that feels right to me."

"By using witchcraft."

"I told you before," Myrtle said, "it's not witchcraft. He's using powwow."

"Not just powwow," Levi corrected her. "Powwow is ineffective against the things outside. The wards I placed over the door, for example, are powwow based but infused with other disciplines, as well."

"What kind?" Myrtle's eyes shone, and Levi cringed at the eagerness in her voice.

"I'd rather not say."

"Powwow," Esther said. "Witchcraft. Seems like the same thing to me."

"Be that as it may," Levi said, "right now, it's the only thing keeping us alive."

"God is keeping us alive, Mr. Stoltzfus."

"You're a religious woman, Esther. I'm sure you prayed tonight. Has it occurred to you that perhaps God sent me to safeguard all of you? Perhaps I am the answer to your prayer."

"I don't-"

"Look," Donny interrupted. "I don't reckon this is the time for a religious debate. Those things are still out yonder, and I for one would like to know what we're dealing with. I don't know shit about magic, but I do know what I saw tonight, and I do know that Levi saved our asses. I'd like to hear him out."

"Yeah," Marsha agreed. "Me, too. Finish the story. What happened to the colonists, and what does it have to do with tonight?"

"The settlers never went to Croatoan. In fact, they never abandoned the colony. Something else happened to them-something far worse than simply running out of supplies. I told you that Croatoan has different meanings. Among them, it is also one of the names of an entity known as Meeble."

"Meeble..." Donny frowned. "I've heard that name before. In Iraq, I think. Can't remember where or why, exactly."

"It's certainly possible," Levi said. He was about to continue, when his attention was drawn to the window. He sensed a presence outside. He stood up, walked to the window and looked into the darkness. Seeing nothing, he returned to the chair and sat down again.

"What is it?" Esther asked. "What's wrong? Are they out there?"

"I believe so. At least one of them was. If my theory is correct, then they're searching for us, and they won't leave until they've killed us all. But I've taken steps to mask our presence inside these walls. We'll be safe. They can't enter. Not without my permission."

"But why do they want to kill us?" Marsha's tone was exasperated. Panic flashed in her eyes. "I don't understand this."

"I don't either," Levi admitted. "At least, not all of it. At this point, I'm still just connecting the dots and seeing what picture they make. All I have is a theory, and that theory is tied into Croatoan, Meeble and the lost colony of Roanoke. As I said before, the settlers never abandoned the island. What White didn't know-and couldn't have known-was that after his departure for England, five of the colonists began dabbling with the occult. Keep in mind, they were in an already-bad situation. The crops were failing, much of their livestock was dead or sick. Things looked grim. Perhaps these five men prayed to God for help. Perhaps, when their prayers weren't answered to their satisfaction, they turned to other means and methods. Other gods. Perhaps they prayed to someone else, all in an effort to help their fellow man."

"How is that any different from what you and I do?" Myrtle asked.

Levi hesitated. He wanted to tell her that there was a world of difference between what he did and her crystal-gazing, pseudoNew Age nonsense, but this was neither the time nor the place. Instead, he simply smiled as politely as he could and continued.

"It's not any different, except that these men were amateurs. They didn't understand the forces they were dealing with, nor how to bend them to their will. In the end, they didn't even invoke the right entity. Instead of summoning a nature spirit or something helpful, they accidentally began worshipping something else, and eventually, they brought that something else into our world."

"A demon," Donny guessed. "Meeble."

"It was indeed Meeble, but Meeble is not a demon. He's something different. And here is where things might get difficult for you to believe-especially for you, Esther. All I can say is that I believe them with the utmost sincerity."

Randy laughed. "Shit, dude. I saw what these fuckers could do with my own eyes. I'll believe pretty much anything at this point."

Donny and Marsha nodded. Esther scowled. Myrtle leaned forward, staring at him with rapt attention.

Levi took a deep breath and exhaled. "Much of what we think we know about the history of our planet and the development of the human race is wrong. Our history books and oral traditions are full of inaccuracies. This is especially true of our religious texts. The primary doctrines of Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Jainism, Hinduism, Shinto, Satanism, Wicca and all of the others have been tampered with and rewritten by mankind so much over the years that none of them reflect the original works. Instead, they are filled with inaccuracies and falsehoods. It takes many years of study and searching to learn the real truths. You might believe, for example, that the Bible is the inspired word of God, but it isn't. You've been taught to believe that it is, but what you believe is a lie. The Bible is not God's word. Neither is the Koran or the Torah or any of the other holy books."

"Then whose word is it?" Esther challenged.

"They are the words of men, edited, parceled, snipped and changed countless times to reflect the will of the men in charge, rather than God's will. If you truly want to know God's word and seek His will, then you've got to look beyond the Bible, because the book we've been taught to call the Bible is not the complete text. Do you know how many books and scrolls and interpretations were excised over the years? Hundreds. It's not the inspired word of God. It is composed only of the books men decided should be in it. It doesn't give us the complete picture. For that, you have to turn to other texts. Perhaps they aren't in the canon, but they were written at the same time and they are just as valid. Those texts give us a true understanding of God. For example, the Bible we all grew up reading tells how God created the universe, but it says nothing about the universe that existed before ours, or about the enemy that came from that other universe."

"You mean Satan?" Myrtle asked.

Levi shook his head. "No, I mean the Thirteen. In the beginning, the entity we know as God or Yahweh or Allah, or hundreds of other names, created the heavens and the Earth. That much is in the Bible. What the Bible doesn't tell us is that in order to create this new universe, He needed a lot of energy. So God destroyed the universe that existed before ours. He reduced it down to the very last atom and utilized the harvested energies as building blocks to create our universe. The old universe ceased to exist and ours was born. However, in addition to God, there were thirteen other denizens of that previous universe who somehow escaped the destruction. Nobody knows how. Suffice it to say, when our new universe sprang forth, they were still here, and they were enraged by what had happened. These entities are collectively known to us as the Thirteen, and they've been the enemies of God and all of His creations-human and otherwise-ever since. They've sworn to destroy anything created by God. After all, He destroyed their universe. Perhaps they merely seek revenge, or maybe they plan to build a universe of their own-a third universe, in which they are the ones in charge. Whatever the case, they are not gods or demons, though they've often been mistaken for such. They are not susceptible to all of the same magicks, workings and laws that govern, banish or bind demons, angels and other supernatural entities. Very specific-and dangerous-magic must be used when confronting them. That magic is known only to a few, of which I am one."

"And this Meeble dude is one of the Thirteen," Randy said. "Right?"

"Exactly!" Levi couldn't hide his enthusiasm. His impressions about the boy, founded when he first saw Randy's aura, had been correct. Despite having no teaching, or indeed, any inkling of his gifts, the boy was attuned.

Randy grinned, clearly pleased with himself despite the evening's grim events.

"Meeble is indeed one of the Thirteen," Levi continued. "He is not as calculating as Ob, the Obot, who commands the Siqqusim, nor is he as big as Leviathan, Lord of the Great Deep, or as powerful as He Who Shall Not Be Named, but Meeble is just as dangerous, cruel and committed to our eradication as any of them. His physical form is bestial. He appears as a hulking, white-furred cross between a cat and an ape and stands almost sixteen feet tall, according to those few who have seen him and lived to tell about their encounter. While the rest of the Thirteen seem to focus their destructive energies on a global scale, Meeble seems to delight instead on destroying humanity one town at a time. That's what happened at Roanoke. And until tonight, I and many others like me assumed that's what was happening in many of the cases where entire populations seemingly vanished overnight-ghost towns out west and such. Now, I'm not so sure."